


Dragged into your misery

by Jenchantress_stories



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam Winchester, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sibling Incest, Top Demon!Dean, Top Demon!Dean/Bottom Sam Winchester, Wincest - Freeform, mentions of lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-16
Packaged: 2019-11-14 22:33:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18061436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenchantress_stories/pseuds/Jenchantress_stories
Summary: Set in S10E03 - Soul SurviorDemon!Dean warned Sam that there'd be no mercy. He knows too well how to make his little brother suffer.Update: (16th March 2019) I added another chapter. It's about the aftermath and how the boys cope.





	1. Dragged into your misery

_“I’m tired of playing. Let’s finish this game!“_

Sam hears Dean calling out for him, unknowingly approaching his current position. Sam desperately tries to find a good spot where he can catch his brother, bringing him back to the dungeon to finish the cure. But he fails. At some point Dean swings a hammer at Sam's head and suddenly, Sam has his knife at Dean's throat. 

Sam is frantic. He knows he can't kill his brother and Dean is well aware of that. With a smug face he pushes himself into the blade, daring Sam to cut anyway. But Sam doesn't move. _„I thought so.“_ Dean grabs Sam's wrist with both hands, twisting it, forcing him down. He smashes his head against the wall and his little brother blacks out. 

\--- 

Sam wakes up lying on cold, concrete ground. He slowly opens his eyes. His head is throbbing. He feels dried blood on his face. He probably has a wound upon the right corner of his forehead from his crash with the wall. 

_“Sleeping beauty is finally waking up.”_ Feeling slight dizzy, Sam looks up. It takes a moment for his eyes to focus. Dean is standing in front of him. A tall, solid posture. He tries to get up but Dean puts a foot on his chest. _“I'd rather like you down there.”_

Sam stares at Dean. He realises they're back in the dungeon. As far as he can see, everything's still in place. Since the table looks untouched, he hopes that the syringes are still there as well.

_“I'm still alive.”  
“Oh, yes. Of course you are. I could have killed you during your little nap, but where's the fun in that?”_

Dean looks at Sam with cold, stern eyes: _“I told you, there'd be no mercy. I can't let you get away that easy, my little brother.”_ Sam stares back, not saying a word. He has no other choice but to wait for the right moment to come. To save himself and his brother from that twisted demon. Sam takes the fact that he's still alive as a trace of Dean's humanity. He is clinging to the tiniest spark of hope.

Dean takes a few aimless steps away from Sam. Again he tries to get up but Dean kicks him in his side, kicking the air out of his lungs. Dean goes down on his knees and turns Sam around, making him lie on his stomach. _“I said, I want you down there.”_

He shifts his weight, putting half of it on Sam's back, pinning him on the spot. If he had both arms, he might still be able to push him off, but with one limp arm, he just can't.

 _“Do you really think I can't handle you? I don't need chains or ropes to get you where I want you.”_  
_“Dean, please. We're nearly there. Let me finish the cure...”_  
_“Oh, Sammy. Again, I don't want to be cured.”_

Dean keeps Sam pinned on the ground. He puts his mouth near his brother's ear to make sure he understands every single word as he starts talking in a low voice, altering between playful and threatening. 

_“To make sure you stop hoping to cure me, let me tell you: I know you. And I'll use my knowledge to hurt you really, really bad. I'm going to make you suffer. Let me spill a secret here.”_

Dean takes a moment, licking his lips, indulging the situation, softly breathing into his brother's ear, then whispers: _“Your once upon a time caring brother knows a lot about the things that happened to you down in the cage.”_

Sam's eyes are wide open, his heart is racing. He never lost a word about what actually happened down there. He didn't want to think about it. He doesn't know how to put it into words. He never wanted to put his own trauma onto Dean. The whole disaster with the wall in his mind was enough for both of them.

 _“Oh, the panic in your eyes, Sammy. You're wondering how? It's because you can't keep your fucking mouth shut when you sleep. In some nights, you were screaming, shouting: STOP! PLEASE, STOP! I BEG YOU! PLEASE! Back then, you scared me.”_ Sam doesn't know what to say. He tries to turn his head around to look at Dean, but he just catches a part of his brother's face close to his ear.

_“Of course, I ran to your room. Always ready to save you again and again. Always putting you first. And what did I get in return? You little messed up bastard, you dragged me into your misery.”_

Sam is scared about what's coming up next. He is all tense. Dean keeps talking slowly, mostly in a playful voice, enjoying the frantic expression of Sam's face, how he starts desperately trying to push him away but in vain. 

_“Your face in tears, your body sweating. Your bedsheets and pillows all over the place. You were deeply caught in a nightmare, reliving the highlights of your nights with Lucifer. Your broken voice containing all the pain, all the humiliation:_

_'I'm your bitch. Please fuck me. Use me. Please.'“_

Sam feels like memories are dragged out of the darkest corners of his mind. Tears are filling his eyes. He never wanted him to know. All the things Lucifer made him do, forcing him to beg for his own violation. Again and again. He pushed it all as far away as he could.

Dean kneels behind Sam and pushes his left arm below his pelvis, pulling him up. Sam is on all four, or rather would be if his right arm wasn't in a sling. Dean keeps his arm tight around Sam, carefully bending over him while his other hand starts to stroke the inside of his thighs, going up and cupping his crotch.

 _“Dean...?”_ Sam's voice is shaking. His whole body starts to shiver as he feels how Dean's hand softly strokes his fly, playing with the buttons and zipper of his jeans.  
_“Oh, come on, Sammy. You were always a freak. Did he really had to force you? I'm sure you actually enjoyed Lucifer's dick up your ass.”_

Dean pushes his own crotch against Sam's ass. There's a hard bump. He tenderly brushes himself slightly up and down on Sam's buttocks. Sam feels a lump in his throat. He's feels sick, while Dean continues to enjoy the sight of his helpless little brother. 

_“Don't be shy. Talking about your trauma might even help you. Share a few details with your brother. I'm sure Lucifer was very creative when he turned you into a fuck toy. You were never screaming for help, you were screaming for more, you sick, little bastard.”_

Sam feels his stomach twisting even further. More and more memories are coming back to him. Stuff he buried in the furthest corners of his mind are now playing again right in front of his eyes. All the ways Lucifer tied him up, violating him. If he refused to beg, far worse things came upon the devil's mind. Sometimes, he just needed a break and gave in. He begged for whatever Lucifer wanted to beg him for. 

_“No, please, Dean, stop...”_ Sam's voice is broken and thin.  
_“Come on, Sammy, moan for me. Beg for mercy. I'm usually not into guys, but right now, your pathetic attitude turns me on.”_

Dean opens Sam's buttons, unzipping his fly and pulling his trousers and underwear down to his knees. Sam puts his upper body down, lying on his chest, to use his left hand, trying to intervene Dean's movement, but he just grabs it and holds it with his left arm that keeps Sam's pelvis up.  
_“That looks just beautiful, Sammy.”_

In a very soft way, Dean strokes Sam's ass, knowing how sick it makes Sam. His fingers going up a down his cheeks, carefully poking his hole. Sam is panicking, trying to free himself despite the sharp pain in his shoulders, trying to push or wiggle himself out, but his demonic brother keeps the upper hand. 

_“Dean, please. You don't want this.”  
“No, YOU don't want his or maybe you do? For now you're my bitch. My cock is literally up for his.”_

He pulls his own erected cock free and rubs it over Sam's ass and between his buttocks. He hears Sam's breath hitching. His eyes are shut now. How is this happening? How did they get to this point? His own limp cock is pocked by Dean's hard one. Dean spits a few times in his hand, covering his erection in saliva and carefully lines up to Sam's hole, teasing is slightly with a few soft pokes. Sam is tense, hoping to prevent whatever comes next. 

_“Come on, Sammy, scream for me.”_

With one deep thrust, he pushes himself in, making Sam scream on top of his lungs, echoing through the bunker. It's one forceful move until he's all in. He pulls back a bit and pushes back in again, slowly picking a rhythm, steadily increasing the speed. Sam feels his hole ripping, the pain is burning through his body, dislocating his senses. Dean starts thrusting faster, banging against his hips.

Sam can't help it but he cries, wetting his face, ending in a smeared puddle on the floor. He is unable to comprehend what's going on.  
_“Dean, please, PLEASE, stop...DEAN!”_

 _“Yeah, cry my little bitch. You sound so sweet. It makes me so hard. Do you feel it? You are such a tight little fuck toy. Unlike me, Lucifer must have had so much fun with you over all those years.”_ He keeps going, violently widening him while indulging in Sam's agony, knowing how he is crushing him emotionally right now.

At some point, he starts pulling out completely and pushing back in again. Every intrusion into his bleeding, wet whole is answered by a suffering reaction, a whimper or a cry out. _“Come on, Sammy. Say you want this. Tell me what a sweet little bitch you are. You want this, am I right?”_

Sam keeps crying, screaming and begging incoherently. Dean's cock seems to grow, he really seems to go off on this. 

He hears Dean starting to moan audibly. His dick is pulsing. He can feel is brother is about to cum as his thrusts becoming faster, his breathing becomes quicker. He's grabbing Sam's hair, raising his head. _“Come on, little bitch, beg for mercy.”_ But Sam just whimpers. 

_“I said, beg for MERCY!”_ He smacks Sam's face against the floor, but not a word comes across his lips. Dean smacks his face again and again, until Sam finally gives in.

 _“NO, PLEASE, JUST STOP, I BEG YOU, DEAN!”_ Dean's face is smug. _“I'll make you drip, sweet little toy of mine._ ”

The physical sensation for Dean is overwhelming. It doesn't take long. Dean moans and thrust, pulling Sam's hair further back until he finally cums deep inside him. Sam feels Dean's load filling him, feels the spasms of Dean's cock until he's done and eventually pulls out. 

Drops of cum and blood sticking between his cheeks. Dean takes his arms of, exhausted he sits back at the wall, closing his eyes for a moment. The chance Sam's been waiting for.

Despite the pain, Sam gets up as fast as possible. Before Dean can react, Sam grabs the syringe and sticks it in Dean's arm, making him cry in agony as the consecrated blood enters his body. He passes out. 

Sam collapses beside him for a moment, taking a breath, still shaking, staring at his unconscious brother. After a few minutes if trying in vain to comprehend what just happened, he gets up. He feels the blood and cum lingering at his hole. His stomach twists itself as Sam walks up to the sink to throw up. A few drops of blood/cum mixture runs down his legs. 

He pulls his underwear and jeans up. With shaking hands, he ties Dean back into the chair, making sure he won't free himself again. Dean's cock, now limp and covered in blood, is still hanging out. He carefully puts it back into his underwear, zipping him up. 

It's just another trauma they both have to deal with.


	2. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's himself again. And he remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had the idea of an aftermath quite as long as the story itself, but I somehow couldn't make it work. Encouraged by DarkHarmony's comment, I sat down again and worked through it. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who read the first chapter. :)

It's all quiet now. Sam sits on the ground, opposite of Dean. He didn't dare to leave the dungeon yet. Just in case Dean wakes up, in case he's not himself yet, in case he breaks free again. He can't risk it. 

He's so god-damn tired, physically and mentally exhausted, but doesn't dare to sleep for the same reason. 

Behind the chair Dean's sitting on, traces of his trauma are still visible. From the point where he's sitting, he can only see a wet spot, the nearly dried puddle of tears and a few drops of blood from his forehead. 

He's feeling cold and dirty. His ass is sore and he feels fluid lingering at his hole. The pain hardly ceases, preventing his mind from pushing this event away. He hears himself screaming and begging, he still feels Dean dominating him, abusing him for fun. _It wasn't Dean._ He tells himself over and over again.

Sam has no idea how long Dean's been out, but eventually, he opens his eyes. Sam gets up, sprinkles him with holy water, but Dean seems to be Dean. His soft eyes, a weak, but honest smile. After all these weeks, Sam has his brother back and for a short moment, everything's alright.

Sam's loosens the ropes, helping Dean up. He flinches every time they touch. Sam doesn't want to be touched right now, especially not by Dean. But at the moment, Dean doesn't seem to remember much. Sam plays along.

Together, they go to Dean's room. Dean's too weak to walk on his own, so Sam supports him. Feeling Dean's weight on his shoulder scares him. There's panic growing inside of him, but he keeps it down. They carried each other back to safety more than a hundred times, but he never felt so uncomfortable. It never felt gross or even repelling.

Dean needs more rest and it's easier to sleep in a bed than a chair. It doesn't take long and Dean dozes off. Sam contemplates to stay, to make sure he's really, really himself again, but he's also desperate for a shower. 

Hot water on his skin, he scrubs his body again and again, his arms, chest, hands, face, empties one shower gel bottle, takes another one. Water runs between his buttock and it burns. He doesn't dare to touch, to clean it up properly, despite he knows he should. 

Dean's cum is lingering inside of him, at the edge of his hole. 

It's just so disgusting. He feels disgusting. He feels like screaming, but he pushes it away, far away onto the big pile of shit memories. 

After finishing his shower, he wraps a towel around his waist. He can't even look at his worn clothes, but he forgot to grab fresh ones. As he opens the bathroom's door, Dean's standing in front of him. 

Big, wide, wet eyes. He's lost. He's broken. He remembers.

_”Sam, I....”_ Dean tries to form words, but doesn't get far. He lifts his hand, tries to reach for Sam, but he takes the smallest step back. Sam looks down, avoiding looking at Dean. 

_”Sammy, I'm... how could I...”_ Dean's voice is broken, thin.  
_”It wasn't you, Dean.”_ Sam answers quietly, still staring to the ground.  
_”No...I mean... this is on me, Sam. I did this... to you.”_ Dean takes a step towards his brother, but he takes another step back.

It's written all over Dean's face how this breaks his heart. Sam is scared of him. _”It's okay, Dean. Just give me some rest.”_ , his voice is barely a whisper. Again, Dean tries to reach for Sam. _”Please don't touch me.”_ Sam didn't mean to say this, it just slipped it lips. He still can't look at Dean.

Dean can't comprehend. Something inside of him shatters. _”I'm sorry.”_ Sam whispers, passing past Dean to head for his own room.

_”I'm sorry?! Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”_ Dean shouts, making Sam jump. He stops and turns around to look Dean. Sam's terrified of Dean and he can't handle it. _”I'M THE ONE WHO HAS TO APOLOGISE! I'M THE ONE WHO HAS TO BEG FOR FORGIVENESS! Sam, I'm the one who did this..._ A tear runs down Dean's face.

They stare at each other, wet eyes, unsure what to do. Sam looks frantic and Dean fears he going to run off any moment now. _”I don't know how to start apologising, man, I mean, what I did...”_ Dean remembers Sam below him, screaming on top of his lungs, begging him to stop.

Sam is still standing there, frozen to the spot, lost. Cautiously, Dean takes another step towards him, then another. He approaches him slowly. 

_”no...”_ Sam's voice is still broken. He steps back, trying to keep the distance. But it all hurts so much. This whole situation, a never-ending nightmare. _”No, no no no no... Dean, please”_ Sam's panicking, right in front of Dean's eyes. Sam grabs his own head, he's shivering, he just doesn't know what to do. 

He starts screaming. _”PLEASE, LEAVE ME ALONE! STAY AWAY FROM ME! I BEG YOU! I JUST CAN'T! I'm sorry, Dean...”_

Sam breaks down, crying, collapsing, heading for the floor, but Dean catches him, carefully wrapping his arms around him. He holds him and Sam accepts it. He doesn't flinch, doesn't push him away. Sam's fingers are grabbing Dean's shirt, he curls into his arms, shivering.

Dean carefully caresses Sam's hair while his shirt gets soaked in tears. Naked and fragile, Sam appears so small. They stay for a while, both calming down until Sam's skin was feeling cold.  
_”You should get dressed”_ Dean says quietly. Sam nods but doesn't move until Dean does. _”Come on, you're getting cold.”_

They look at each other. They both look broken. Dean is waiting for Sam to say something, but he just nods vaguely and walks to his room. 

About fifteen minutes later, Dean knocks on Sam's door. There's no answer. Dean gently opens the door. Sam's sitting on his chair next to his desk, wearing a pyjama. Maybe he is at least attempting to sleep. On his desk is a glass and a half empty bottle of some cheap whiskey. 

_”Um, do you need... anything?”_ Dean feels helpless and lost. He wants to be there for Sam and has no idea how. Does Sam even want him around? If he'd jump him now and punches the shit out of him, Dean wouldn't even fight it. 

_”I'm fine.”_ He answers quietly. Dean knows he's lying. _I'm fine_ is the Winchester's number one lie. 

_”If there's anything..._ Dean offers, but Sam interrupts him.  
_”Yeah, I know... um, I think I should sleep now.”_ There's this quick, reassuring smile of Sam's that's always part of his _I'm fine_ \- acting.  
_”Okay, good, that's good._ Dean plays along. 

He leaves the room and closes the door behind him. Standing on the corridor, he waits for Sam to switch off the lights. But Sam won't sleep anytime soon and Dean knows.


End file.
